Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) (22 page)

I
woke
up with a stiff neck, bruised arms, and possibly a broken rib. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure of this, because I was scared to move and give away that I was awake. My hands were tied tightly behind my back, with little, if hardly any room to move.

Someone else was in the room, humming a choppy version of a nursery rhyme. I had goosebumps over my arm from the chill of the wind. A window must’ve been left open.

I was in some rundown building, facing a cemented wall. The floor was rough underneath me.

The humming abruptly stopped. “I know you’re awake,” he said, a child-like quality to his voice.

I froze.

Without warning, a heavy foot pressed on my shoulder. Pain shot through my shoulder blade and to my side, and I let out a cry. “Look at me,” he demanded.

I turned my head reluctantly, because I didn’t like pain.

His eyes still held that blank look, like he was merely watching the events, rather than experiencing it first-hand.

Those eyes freaked me out. I didn’t feel anything when our eye met. And if he didn’t strike me as having much empathy, then that meant I wouldn’t have been able to talk him out of doing, well, whatever he was about to do. I didn’t want to think what that could be, because I didn’t relish the thought of being tortured, or God help me, dying.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered. “Why me? Why now?”

“My father was an alcoholic.”

I didn’t understand the connection, but I listened anyway, not daring to interrupt.

“When I was young, he beat me up all the time. Then he finally left my mother.”

That was horrible. I wasn’t sure how he’d take it if I expressed sympathy and interrupted him, so I didn’t make a sound. Then I heard clattering. I hadn’t realized it was coming from me at first, until saw my hands were shaking too. If he noticed it, he didn’t say anything.

“I read a book one year ago from a thrift shop, about a man, who had an alcoholic father. He fell in love with a woman, and gave her everything, bought her the nicest things. The woman didn’t understand him. His pain. She chose the other guy, who didn’t have to work for her affection. Stupid, stupid woman. My Kath.”

Holy fuck. The guy was crazy. I never even gave any indication Leo had a chance with Kath. And Travis did have to work for her affection. Did he even finish the book? If flying all the way across the continent so he could be with her again wasn’t working for it, then I didn’t know what was.

But I didn’t tell him that.

“What– What’s your name?” I asked carefully, my voice a little shaky. I needed to call him his name, so I can somehow address him in a way that wouldn’t make him see me as a threat.

“Leo.”

I didn’t know if that was his name, or if that was who he wished he was.

“Leo,” I said, testing the name. A touch of recognition sparked in his eyes. “I wrote it a certain way, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only way the story could go. They’re not the end, they’re just my own version.”

Anger flared in those eyes. “Your version that many could see. Your version is wrong. It’s not the way it should be,” he said fiercely.

Maybe you should write your own book
.

“In an alternate reality, Leo and Kath are together, I’m certain of that,” I told him instead, trying to inject confidence. Lots of fan fiction told different versions of the story, because that was the way they felt they could express themselves.

“The version you wrote is filth. I want you to remove it,” he demanded.

What?

“It’s already published,” I told him, confused.

“Take it down.”

Letting out a small, humorless laugh, I told him, “And then you’ll let me go?”

He shook his head, and a small smile crept on his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And then you can be my Kath.”

Oh hell no.

“My name is Sherry,” I corrected him. Then, a little gentler, I pleaded, “Leo, I need you to let me go. Please.”

“It was so hard to get you alone,” he muttered, as if I hadn’t spoken. “I tried to get you alone, but if you weren’t with those whores,
Travis
was always with you.” He said the name like it was distasteful. Then he continued, “For months, I tried to call you, wanting to hear your voice. Now I finally have you.”

Nuts. He’d gone nuts, and I think I was going to be sick. I didn’t know anyone named Travis, and my friends were
not
whores. If Travis was Chase, then it was some twisted version this guy made up in his head. Jesus, I needed to get out of here.

I attempted to move once more and winced from the pain in my ribs. Okay, couldn’t move. I must’ve dropped my phone too, because I no longer had it. I tried moving my hands once more, testing the tightness of the rope, and moved my fingers, trying to feel the ground if there was anything here I could use. When it felt like there was nothing in this place I could’ve used, I decided to try something else.

Slowly, taking a deep breath, on the top of my lungs even though it hurt, I screamed for help.

“Shut up! Shut up!” he grabbed my chin roughly, and so tightly that it hurt. I closed my eyes, perilously close to breaking down. I felt tears sting my eyes, but I didn’t make a sound.

In that moment, I felt the despair of hopelessness.

After years, I’d taken a chance again, and fallen in love with a man who loved me and never gave up on me, and in doing so, I felt like I found myself.

Just this morning, he told me he wanted to show me something. Now I’d never know what it was.

I closed my eyes, thinking that if I did, maybe it would all just somehow fade, and it would be like another dream.

“Good girl, my Kath.”

I heard something creak. My eyes shot open.

I saw him draw out a handgun from his pocket, a joyous smile on his face.

Oh my God.

I’ve never been the type to faint at the sight of blood, nor did I shy away from gore or action movies, but the thought of him shooting me or anyone close to me made me feel light-headed.

He hoisted me up on a shoulder, and it was all I could do not to cry, because it fucking hurt my ribs, and my other shoulder, which was starting to feel sore. One arm went around me, and the other held his gun.

I was shivering, I was freaking out, and I was cursing myself for going out without at least begging Sierra to come with me. Why did I ever think it was smart to go out alone? Not even the main street would keep me safe from batshit crazy criminals if they were intent on taking me.

And why did I write about Leo? Love triangles sucked anyway. Although it wasn’t really an official love triangle, since he was just some dude who thought he wanted my female main character, but he was actually going to get another equally kick-ass book with another equally kick-ass heroine. I would’ve told him that if he hadn’t called my book filth.

Maybe I should’ve written Chase a note before I left, because I was going out alone. Or maybe I should’ve texted him before I called anyone else. Maybe I should’ve said those three words to him at least once before I died. I was in love with him, and he didn’t even know it. Maybe… So many maybes. Now I couldn’t do any of those things and I’d die in a dilapidated building. No one would find my body for days, and it would rot. On the bright side, maybe I’d see mom and Gem. Maybe then it would be worth it.

It was then that I heard a shuffling noise, and someone barked, “Police! Get your hands up!”

I don’t think my captor expected it at all, because he jerked back as if panicked. I heard it first, almost at the same time I felt the impact, and I felt a strange disconnect, like it didn’t really happen to me. I mean, these things only happened in movies. Feeling something wet on my side, I pressed a hand over it and saw the blood. So much blood.

“Kath!” I heard him cry out, horrified.

“You asshole,” I mumbled, but it had less impact than I was going for. I wanted to punch him, but I don’t think I could’ve if I tried.

I felt numb with shock, panicked and lightheaded, and suddenly he wasn’t behind me anymore, and so there was no one holding me up. I felt myself falling, and falling… And then there was nothing.

I
heard muffled voices
.

Sometimes hushed ones too. Other times, it jumped from absolute silence to complete disregard for noise.

At first, there was excruciating pain, until it came to a point where it became tolerable.

In and out I went. I didn’t stay awake for long periods.

There was confusion at first. Then slowly, I came to realize that I was alive, and the relief was so immense, I gave myself permission to fall back into the darkness.

At one point I thought I heard Chase growl something at someone, probably a nurse. It made my heart lift, because his presence was comfort in itself.

I heard Sierra snap at someone too, although I didn’t recognize the male voice that replied back with nearly the same snark.

I thought I heard Kate sobbing, but felt her stay quietly by my side.

It felt like I was watching some film that played infrequently in fragments, like clips, sometimes in plain sound, but sometimes in color too, in the short periods between compete blackness. But I found that it was better to sink into it, because it was easy and it felt good, so why fight it?

* * *

I
dreamed a lot
.

At least, I thought they were dreams. I dreamed I was shot all over again.

I dreamed I’d never been taken, and that Chase brought me to a nice place that night. One time I was back at Anton’s, and in front of everyone, he proposed to me. I said yes. Another time it was back at our place, by the pond, and he was breaking up with me all over again. I hated those ones.

Other times I didn’t dream about me at all, but about Eva. She’d found her brother, and he came back to her. Sometimes it was Chase, all by himself, and the complete misery made me want to reach out and hug him. As I tried to reach out, my arms would grasp at nothing, followed quickly by the sharp sting of disappointment.

* * *

I
felt
a warm hand stroke my forehead. I thought I heard someone telling me I’d be safe. I felt myself smile, because I knew that voice, and I thought it was the best voice I’d ever heard. It was tender, soft, soothing, and he was all mine.

* * *

T
here was
a weight on my hand. Not heavy exactly, but foreign. And something light and soft, tickled my finger.

I looked down and saw a head resting over an arm on the bed.

My heart did that thing again, where it felt like it was melting, and in the best possible way.

Chase. He was breathing deeply, fast asleep.

He stayed. All this time he stayed with me. I put a hand up and brushed over his hair, unable to help myself.

A slight fold formed between his brow as he roused from sleep. His eyes shot open, and he abruptly sat up.

“Sherr,” came his voice, still rough from sleep, the relief plain. His eyes lit up, then his lips touched my forehead.

He slid a hand over my hair, soothing. “How’re you feeling?”

I shrugged. Or tried to, then remembered that was a bad idea, and I winced. “I’ve been better,” I replied, sighing. “Everything hurts, and I have all these tubes stuck in me. How long have I been out?”

“Several hours,” came his quiet reply, but his concerned gaze swept over me.

A colorful arrangement on the side table caught my attention. There were bouquets of flowers on the table. Cards too. I felt like a cozy blanket had been wrapped snug all around my heart. Tears threatened to spill, and then I moved my hand and sought his. Realizing my intent, he closed his fingers around mine.

* * *

I
listened
as I’d been told I was lucky for surviving, having the bullet narrowly miss my vital organs. But my rib was fractured, and I had a bruise over my shoulder, so everything hurt.

But I was alive.

And Leo, whose real name turned out be Gavin Sanders, was behind bars.

* * *

I
t was
funny the things you learned when you were here alone, with the stories people told you.

I found that I had a lot of food too, namely chocolate, most of which Sierra apparently snuck in, in case they deprived me of it here. Kate ordered me a new book that came out from a favorite Paranormal Romance author and she left it on my side table ‘in case you get bored’. Haley and Paula apparently had some surprise under their sleeves, but they also came by, asking me how I was.

I learned that Patrick and Celine visited briefly, among others.

Wes came in, a couple of hours after I woke up, when Chase went out to get me some food. He looked at me, and I thought I saw a flash of guilt before he averted his gaze, his expression grim.

“Hey, I didn’t die,” I joked. “Why the long face?”

He didn’t say anything until he lowered to the seat next to me.

“Fuck. I don’t know how to say this. I didn’t even realize it until he chewed my head off. I didn’t know what was happening Sherr, swear to God. I knew someone broke into your house, but it never entered my mind that it was calculated, or that it’d been happening for a while,” he said, frustration ringing clear.

“It’s not your fault,” I tried to ease him. “I didn’t want to worry you, plus you were spending time with your niece.”

He let out a sharp breath. “I could’ve asked someone to go with you. It’s a goddamn mess.”

“Wes,” I said firmly, “It’s not your fault. And it’s not your job to babysit me.”

“You’re my friend,” he said plainly. “It’s my job to do what I can to keep you in one piece and mess with those who fuck you over.”

I snorted. “Ow,” I breathed out. Okay, no laughing or snorting or any kind of body strain.

“You okay?” he asked me, looking me over. Then he grimaced when his eyes hovered over the area of my gunshot wound.

“I’m alive,” I replied softly.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I heard him mumble.

“I’ll be fine.”

There were three quick raps on the door, and then the knob twisted. Wes turned turn his head around. “Hey,” he greeted them.

“Wes. SHERR,” Sierra said dramatically, a broad smile sweeping across her face. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

Eva trailed behind her, carrying a basket.

Sierra walked over, put a hand over my head and messed my hair up affectionately. “You’re awake! So glad to see you.”

“Glad to see you guys too,” I grinned at them.

Eva held the basket up. “Goody bag,” she smiled at me.

I eyed the large basket. Other people got baskets of fruit. I got sweet treats. “I love you,” I sighed.

She threw her head back and laughed.

It was then that I learned in the next thirty minutes that Chase hadn’t left my side at all when I was unconscious, a fact he omitted. Or maybe he just didn’t particularly feel the need to tell me.

“That Facebook feed topic is still going.” Sierra broke into a laugh.

“Facebook feed?” It piqued my curiosity. I tried to sit up, then my body reminded me that it was a bad idea.

“Don’t move,” Siera chided. She turned the screen towards me and pushed it closer. I continued to read with a kind of horrified fascination as she scrolled down. So much information about what people did in their daily lives. “Who writes these?”

“You remember Rona?”

“Rona, the photographer?”

“The one and only.”

“She’s a blogger,” she told me like she’d just learned that a myth came true.

“Cool,” I said. Then frowning, “I hope she doesn’t post the wrong kind of things. Rumors can go rampant around here, given enough fuel.”

Her eyes raised to the ceiling as she gave it some thought. “She has a tendency to make things sounded more dramatic than they seem, but I don’t remember her really posting anything damaging. She likes posting the mundane things. Make them seem much more interesting. Not really anything bad if she did the damaging thing either, if well-deserved,” she added, a wicked glint in her eye. “She has a lot of subscribers.”

“Eva,” I said, shifting a little to look at her. “Please, don’t ever let those two end up in the same room.”

As if a particularly unpleasant memory came to her, she made a face. “They have, actually. Once. It was April Fool’s too.” A shudder went through her.

There was another knock, and then someone else entered. Then someone else entered. Luke. I thought a caught a flicker of something in Sierra’s eyes, before she said rather softly, “Did you get it?”

Wow. When did that happen? Were they finally talking now?

He nodded once. He passed her a rather large and thick envelope.

I gave Sierra a look, tilting my head towards Luke, and she mouthed a cryptic ‘he’s weird’. Then she passed the envelope to me, anticipation in her eyes.

I opened it, and to my surprise, a Panda card-board figure popped up, spinning, complete with music.

My eyes widened. Holy crap.

The panda continued to spin back and forth. It was adorable.

“You’re not supposed to make me laugh,” I gasped, and bit the inside of my cheek. “Thank you! I love it.”

Eva beamed at me. “I’m happy for you,” she told me, placing a hand gently on an arm. “He looks at you like you hung the moon,” Eva said. “And when you were out, he’d gone really quiet, like he would snap at the slightest thing. I think people were kinda scared to approach him.”